


v. haze

by foundCarcosa



Series: What Was, and What Should Not Have Been [5]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foundCarcosa/pseuds/foundCarcosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes all it takes is a change in the weather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	v. haze

The heat wave hit Kirkwall hard -- the spring thaws had only just ended, and yet a heavy haze was settling over the city, the sun a sickly yellow colour in a sickly ochre sky.  
Apprentices sweated in their classrooms, templars prayed for relief as their armour seemed to grow heavier and heavier, and mishaps with ice spells ballooned into a daily occurrence.

Meredith took to her bed with the recurrent fever, Amelia's legacy, and Orsino was again tasked with tending to her.

It was a week before he came to her chambers with iced embrium tea and lyrium salve only to find her upright and walking, a thin housecoat draped around her shoulders and loosely tied at the waist.  
He fumbles for words when he realises that the garment is all she wears.

"Aren't you hot in those robes?" Meredith Stannard asks him, at the same time her housecoat falls open.

"I've interrupted," Orsino whispers, backing away, a sweat breaking out on his brow and the back of his neck that has nothing to do with the oppressive heat. The sight of downy hair below her navel makes his fingers twitch, and he rubs the pads of them together, imagining. "I should..."

"You're dripping wet." Meredith is swift in her approach, and there is a wall at his back, and her fingers are already fondling the clasps at his throat, his chest, the light wool falling away from his flushed flesh. He raises his eyes to hers, but her gaze is bright, fevered.

"You need to lie down," but she's not listening, her hands plunging into the robes to push them off his shoulders, her fingers like firebrands. He reaches to push her hands away, feebly, but her mouth presses insistently against his and she smells like the garden in the heat of midday and the ache at the centre of him seems to throb in time with the ache at the centre of her, and perhaps this is exactly what he'd come here for, without even knowing.

She snatches at his thickening flesh, squeezes, slips it between her thighs and fills his mouth with her tongue. His head is spinning, his knees buckling, and to his great surprise she is already shuddering against him, grinding against him, gasping his name in his ear...

Later, much later, they'd move slowly, the desperation having passed. But nothing erases the dizzying feel of Meredith's fragrant, sweat-slick skin pressed against his, the gust of her breath as she utters his name, the fortuitousness of a heat wave in spring.


End file.
